


Fragments

by masadora



Category: Tales of Destiny, Tales of Zestiria, Tales of the Rays (Video Game)
Genre: Drabbles, Gen, now with one totrays crossover chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 05:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14395515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masadora/pseuds/masadora
Summary: Stories left untold.A series of drabbles fromTales of Destiny.





	1. Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon recovers from a disastrous first mission.
> 
> Prompt: One is recovering from a wound/illness + “I promise I’ll always be there for you. No matter what. You’re not alone anymore" + “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

He’s a knight now, and knights don’t cry.

That’s what Leon tells himself, but he can’t seem to stop the tears no matter how hard he tries. They stream down his cheeks, blurring his vision and soaking his bandages. He buries his face in his arms to muffle the sounds, and his shoulders heave with every restrained sob. What a pitiful sight he must be right now, sitting on the floor of his own bedroom and weeping like a pathetic child. He’s glad that Marian isn’t here to see this.

“Don’t blame yourself, young master.” A second voice rings out, soft and so very gentle. “It will get better.”

Leon doesn’t want Marian to see this, but he has no such reservations about Chal. There is nothing to hide; not from his best friend and confidant, who had always been at his side. He gathers the swordian into his arms, hugging it tightly to his chest.

“After _that_ –” he hiccups, the sound accompanied by a fresh wave of tears. “After that, they’re never going to give me another mission again!”  

Hugo hadn’t spoken to him about the failure yet, but the furious look in his eyes made his sentiments clear as day. Leon shuddered to think of their scheduled meeting, and the punishment that was sure to follow. But, more than that, he was disappointed at himself. It was his first mission, yes, but it really hadn’t been _that_ complicated. If he couldn’t handle this, then how could he be trusted to do anything else? He’s always tried so hard to be tougher, to be _better_ – if not for Hugo’s approval, then it is for Marian, and for himself. The throbbing pain and blood-stained bandages on his arm seem like a constant reminder of his failure.

 _You will never amount to anything._ Hugo’s words remains etched into his mind. _You are a failure, and you are nothing without me._

Sometimes, he thinks Hugo might be right.

“That’s not true, young master!”

And it’s Chaltier, always Chaltier, who breaks through those thoughts. Even if Chal has no physical body, even if the metallic blade is icy cold…his voice is kind and full of warmth. It settles Leon more than anything else. 

“That’s not true,” Chal repeats earnestly. “You made a mistake, but that was only your first mission. Next time, I know that you’ll be able to do it perfectly – and you’ll show all of them what an excellent swordsman you truly are.”

Leon clutches at Chal, holding him closer. It wasn’t the same as a human touch, but there's no one else he'd rather have right now. “N-Next time…” he trails off.

_What if I don’t get one?_

It’s a fear Leon doesn’t want to vocalize, but Chal understands anyways. “There will be a next time. Nobody does things perfectly on their first try, and the knights won’t condemn you for one mistake!”

He sounds so certain that Leon can’t help but believe him. Slowly, his tears subside and he gives a hesitant nod, though his grip on the swordian does not loosen.

“It’ll be alright, young master. We’ll figure it out.”

“…Okay.” Leon closes his eyes. If he concentrates enough, he can feel a whisper of warmth from the lens centerpiece. “We’ll do it together, Chal.”

“Of course.” Chal’s core glows, vibrating gently against his cheek. It really is a comforting touch. “I promise I’ll always be there for you, no matter what. You won’t ever have to be alone.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic dump for all of my Tales of Destiny drabbles! Initially done for tumblr prompt game, but I have a feeling I'm gonna be writing a lot of these. The world needs more ToD fics and I've been stuck in this hell for two years with no way out.
> 
> If you enjoyed this piece, please leave a kudos or comment! Let me know what you think ♡


	2. Middle Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon and Rutee are like oil and water.
> 
> Prompt: Someone does something stupid + “Don’t tell me what to do.”

As much as Leon likes to complain about the little ragtag group they’ve assembled, he will grudgingly admit that they’ve all grown into their own, and are essential teammates during battle. Stahn, for his swordsmanship and brute strength. Philia, for her heavy spell-casting. And Rutee has perhaps the most important role of all, with her proficiency with healing spells.

…Which is only outweighed by her proficiency for sniffing out lens.

“We can’t carry that much! Just leave it here already.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” the bag of lens in Rutee’s hands is bulging, and it must be heavier than all of their equipment put together – but still, she refuses to let go and shoves the sack into Stahn’s hands before turning to pick up a second one. “I didn’t defeat those monsters for nothing!”

“ _You_ didn’t defeat them alone,” Leon snaps. Their last fight had taken place in a steeply-hilled forest, and he wanted nothing more than to move on. “And I’m not going to let you slow us down just because you’re a greedy hag.”

Rutee raises an eyebrow. “Hag? Ooh, how original! I guess that’s the extent of your vocabulary. How about you try something new, kiddo?”

“Guys,” Stahn tries to interject, “Can we not–”

“Be silent!” Leon ignores Stahn entirely and strides forward, intending to take Rutee’s stupid bag away by force if he has to. “Just hand it over, and stop wasting my time!”

“Respectfully declined, _sir_!” Rutee sneers, taking a step back and cradling the bag like it was a newborn child.  

Both of their voices are rising in volume, easily drowning out Stahn’s clumsy attempts to play mediator. With a growl of frustration, Leon finally whips out his control for the electric tiara – but Rutee, having been a victim of it way too many times at this point, instantly lunges forward to stop him.

She doesn’t get there fast enough for that. What she _does_ manage to do is grab onto Leon’s forearm.

_Bzzt!_

(If this is what being shocked feels like, maybe he’ll avoid pulling the tiara on them from now on.)

The electric current is both painful and numbing. To his horror, Leon finds that his legs are refusing to respond in the immediate aftermath, so there’s nothing he can do when Rutee pitches backwards with a scream and pulls him down with her. Next thing Leon knows, they’re both tumbling over the edge of the hill, slamming painfully into a series of bumpy rocks and through a nest of prickly shrubs, before finally landing flat on the ground below.

Belatedly, Leon realizes that it isn’t a hill. It’s a small cliff. 

“Leon! Rutee!” Stahn’s voice sounds like it’s coming from very far above them. “Are you guys okay?”

Philia’s voice joins in. “We’re coming to get you right away!” 

Everything aches, but Leon doesn’t feel seriously hurt. Still, this is far from his proudest moment and one look at Rutee’s face tells him that this isn’t hers, either. When her eyes meet his, her expression twists into a scowl.

“Now look what you’ve done!” they accuse at the same time, before taking on identically-startled expressions and turning away from each other with a huff.

After a moment, Rutee pushes herself to her feet. “Like you’re one to talk. Who was it that decided to electrocute the both of us, huh? I’m glad you got a taste of your own medicine this time.”

Leon bristles. “I only did it because you were being insufferable!” 

The incident had been humiliating and a tremendous waste of time, so he had every right to be angry. He’s definitely not angry because he felt his heart stop at Rutee’s terrified scream when they fell. Absolutely not. 

That would be ridiculous. 

He tries to get up, too. However, the moment he tries to put weight onto his right leg, pain shoots up from his ankle and Leon finds himself stumbling. He doesn’t fall, though, as Rutee grabs a hold of his arm.

“Did you hurt your leg when I pulled you down?”

“It’s nothing.” Leon grits his teeth and gingerly tries to stand on it again, but it’s a lost cause as his ankle crumples inwards immediately. 

She hauls him up again, and reaches for Atwight without hesitation. “That was clearly not nothing, you brat!”

“Don’t call me that.” Despite his grumbles, though, it is a relief when her healing magic washes over his wound. Leon falls silent.

It’s a bad sprain, perhaps fractured. An injury beyond the capabilities of his own healing artes, which means that it would be taxing for even Rutee, in her current state. She must be tired after their most recent fight, but the stream of magic is steady and unwavering. Within minutes, the pain fades.

Rutee sheathes Atwight, and her shoulders slump in exhaustion. Leon bites at his lip and looks off to the side, spotting the bag of lens that she had been so intent on bringing. Much of it had spilled all over the ground, but it was miraculously in one piece.

“…We can bring half,” he finds himself saying.

Rutee blinks at him, startled. “What?”

“We can bring half of the lens. Don’t make me repeat myself.” Leon averts his gaze. “…That’s the most we will be able to carry.”

He doesn’t look at her, but there’s a faint smile in Rutee’s next words.

“I’ll accept your compromise just this once. Let’s go, then, and meet up with the others!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More drabbles! The world needs more sibling interactions. And someday, I'll be able to write sibling interactions where they both know they're siblings...
> 
> If you enjoyed this piece, please leave a kudos or comment! Let me know what you think ♡


	3. Always Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Emilio only has one playmate in mind, and he won't settle for anything else.

In hindsight, this was bound to happen eventually.

Chaltier is one of the smaller swordians and relatively lightweight, but he’s still made of tempered steel and his blade is longer than little Emilio is tall. It is an achievement that the boy has enough strength to pick him up _at all_ , but, inevitably–

His grip slips, and the solid hilt comes down hard on his head. There’s a moment of silence, before Emilio’s eyes fill with tears and he starts to cry.

“I _told_ you not to hold me like that, young master! I’m still too heavy for you! Are you alright?”

Chaltier’s voice is lost over the sound of Emilio’s sobbing. He fusses over the rapidly-swelling bump on the toddler’s forehead, but there’s ultimately nothing he can do about a physical injury. He’s glad when the maids finally come running.

“Look at your head! What on earth happened–?” one of them of them picks him up, shaking her head slightly. “Ah, you’ve been playing with the sword again.”

“Whose idea was it to leave him with a weapon, anyways?” the second maid has ice, and she presses it gently to Emilio’s forehead. Slowly, his cries fade into distraught whimpers, and he settles into the maid’s arms.

Chaltier wishes that he can do something similar to comfort Emilio, but without a physical form, he’s merely a disembodied voice. “It’s going to be alright, young master!” he says instead. “The ice will make it stop hurting, see?”

The maids continue to talk, unaware of his presence. “Master Hugo brought it. He said it was for his son.”

“Yes, but what is a baby going to do with a sword?” the second, older maid clicks her tongue, disapproving. “He’s going to hurt himself. He already has.”

Indeed, the blade itself is wrapped in cloth, fastened with straps that would prevent the weapon’s cutting edge from being exposed – but that does little to protect Emilio from the rock-hard hilt and guard, which has its own pointed edges. Even the blunted sides are a hazard, considering the weapon’s sturdiness and weight.

“The sword is too dangerous for him. Put it on the dresser,” the older maid finally decides. “Set it high, so the young master can’t reach.” 

The younger maid does so. Emilio’s wide eyes follow her movements, and he begins to squirm restlessly.

“Chal,” he says, holding out chubby hands. “Chal!”

“We’ll get you something else,” the maid shakes her head. “A proper toy.”

Chaltier sighs reluctantly. “Maybe that’s for the best…you might do something worse than bump your head next time. Worry not, young master!” he forces on a more cheery tone. “I’ll just talk to you from here!”

But Emilio doesn’t seem content with that. He squirms harder, kicking, until the maid has to put him down on the bed. When the maids bring a stuffed bear, he shoves it aside without so much as looking at it. “No! Chal!”

“What’s gotten into you?” the other maid exclaims. “We’ll get you something better, you’ll see. That sword is not a toy.”

Next, they bring him a wooden cart with painted wheels – then a stuffed dog, a plush cat, and a rattle, all of which are discarded without hesitation. The pile of rejected toys besides Emilio’s bed grows, and grows, until he finally loses patience and begins to tear up again.

“ _Chal!_ Want Chal!” he wails, pointing on top of the dresser. “Swaa-dian! Chal!”

“It’s no use. He’s even given the sword a name!” the maid throws her hands up in exasperation, tossing aside the last toy. “Of all the things for him to make an imaginary friend out of, why a weapon?”

“I think _Chal_ was his first word…” the other sighs. “Who taught him that name?”

“I don’t know. Could he have made it up himself?”

“Oh, young master…” Never had Chaltier wished for a human body so badly. “It’s alright, don’t cry! You can still hear me, right? I’m right here with you!”

But Emilio doesn’t stop, and he sobs until the maids finally relent. They bring over extra pieces of cloth, double-wrapping the blade before moving on to cover the swordian’s hilt and guard until it’s little more than a lumpy bundle of fabric. Only a fraction of the lens centerpiece is left uncovered.

“Is this really okay?” the maid wonders. “Will he even recognize it when it’s like this…?”

Chaltier wonders, too. But their worries are unfounded, because Emilio lets out a coo of delight as soon as the swordian is deposited back into his lap. He’s smiling again, all rosy cheeks and sparkling violet eyes.

“Well, it _should_ be safe like this,” the maid watches, hands on her hips. “I guess the young master won’t settle for anything else.”

“He’s going to be a great swordsman when he grows up,” the second laughs. Together, they gather up the toys and leave the room, letting the door click shut.

Emilio barely notice their departure. Clumsy fingers press against the clothed hilt, and he holds Chaltier up to eye level. “Swaad-man?”

“ _Swordsman_ , young master,” Chaltier corrects gently. “I’m sure you’ll be a great one. But even if you aren’t, I’ll stay by your side.”

Emilio hums, and hugs the swordian close until his cheek presses against the glowing lens core. Chaltier wishes he can return the embrace.

“I’ll be here, young master. Always.”

_It’s a promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't the result of a prompt game, but it's a Destiny drabble nonetheless. So it might as well go here!
> 
> Baby Emilio + Chaltier tugs at my heartstrings and I love them.


	4. In Tandem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've saved the world, but there's still work to be done. Stahn refuses to leave Leon behind.
> 
> Prompt: Miserable/in a bad mood + “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought.”

It hasn’t been that long since the Belcrant incident; perhaps five years at most. And yet, Darilsheid has changed so much that it had almost become unrecognizable. People are abandoning it by the hundreds, now, choosing instead to turn to Aigrette. Most of the knights had left, too. Leon is among the handful that stayed. 

And Stahn stayed with him. He isn’t a knight by training, hadn’t even  _wanted_ to join the army again following their ordeal on the Aethersphere – and yet, here he is, toiling away in Darilsheid instead of spending time with his family, all because Leon had asked for his help _once_  to deal with the brewing civil unrest.

Leon regrets asking. At the time, he had been reeling from the loss of Marian and Chal, shaken and not wanting to be alone – but this? He hadn’t wanted this.

It was naive to think that everything would settle down after the Belcrant incident. In reality, troubles only intensified. Dycroft’s lasers and pieces of the crust had caused massive damage as it fell to the land below, and the uneasy atmosphere grew with every passing day. Even though they saved the world in the end, a lot of lives had been lost, and the people wanted answers nobody could give.

He can tell that Stahn doesn’t want to do this, not  _really_. For all of their conquered hardships, Stahn is still too kind, too soft-hearted – he doesn’t belong in this hopelessly crumbling city. It wore down on him, perhaps more than their mission on the Aethersphere. 

Stahn doesn’t smile as much anymore.

“You should go back,” Leon tells him one night, as they sit side-by-side on the couch, each cradling a cup of honeyed tea. He's moved out of the Gilchrist Manor and into a smaller, cozier place, but the house still feels much to large for one person. Alone, the silence is suffocating, so he's glad when Stahn settled into his life with a comfortable normalcy. There will no doubt be an emptiness when he leaves, but Leon doesn’t want to see him trapped here. “Return to Lienea.”

“Mhm…maybe next year?” Stahn shifts, their shoulders brushing against each other. “After things get better. I’m still waiting to introduce you to grandpa and Lilith.”

Leon’s not sure if it ever will get better. “Go back this year.”

“There’s no way I can do that.”

His stubbornness was endearing, but of equal parts irritating. “You’ve already been here far too long.” The words taste bitter on Leon’s tongue, like he’s admitting a mistake. “…I’ve tied you down.”

Stahn frowns, then sets down his cup and turns to fully face him. “I  _want_ to help you.”

 _I know_ , Leon wants to say, because Stahn had only ever wanted to help him. Somehow, that makes it even worse. 

“You wanted to travel the world years ago,” he says instead. “You should never have stayed in Darilsheid in the first place. You should have left after the first incident.” Despite himself, his voice is getting louder, more upset. “The situation here, the people– they’re eating you alive!”

There’s a pause this time, and it says as much when Stahn doesn’t directly deny it. “I couldn’t have left,” he answers. “If you need me, Leon, then I’ll be here. I care about you too much to let you deal with this alone.”

The sentiment is kind. But spoken like this, it only fans the flames of Leon’s frustration. “And I  _don’t_? Why do you think I’m asking you to leave?!” he slams his own cup down with a clatter, rising to his feet. “I don’t want you to keep putting your own life aside! If you–” his voice cracks. “If you think I don’t feel anything for you, then you’re more stupid than I thought!”

“I know!”

Stahn stands up as well, taking Leon’s hands between his own and gripping it tightly. “I know you care,” he repeats, in a softer voice. “I know you’re worried, and that’s why you’re asking me to leave. But I’m worried about you, too.”

“You’ve already done enough…!”

Stahn shakes his head. “You might think it’s a mistake to ask for my help, but I’m glad you did. Otherwise, where would I be? Writing letters to you from Lienea, wondering every few weeks if you were still alive? I’d rather be here!”

His hands are warm, and Leon doesn’t want to let go. Slowly, his shoulders slump in wordless defeat. 

“I don’t regret coming here to help you, and I’m glad we were able to spend time together. You’ve been in my life for so long, Leon. I can’t imagine you gone.”

Carefully, as if not to spook him, Stahn leans in until their foreheads press gently together. Leon flinches, his entire body rigid, but he doesn’t pull away.

“So if I go, then you have to go with me,” Stahn whispers. “We’ll go together, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little different from the other drabbles, because it takes place in a divergent future where Leon did ask for help, and thus survived the events of Destiny. I won't get into the details for now, but that's the general premise.
> 
> Plus, Stahn and Leon...there isn't a single day where I'm not crying over these two. They're my OTP of OTPs but honestly, I leap at the chance to see any kind of interactions between them – whether as friends, family, lovers, or anything else. This one is still pretty gen though, and you can read them as friends if you want.
> 
> If you enjoyed this piece, please leave a kudos or comment! Let me know what you think ♡


	5. Commonalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TotRays verse. Team Zestiria and Team Destiny find that they have quite a lot in common.
> 
> ...Maybe.

"So most people in your world can't see or hear them, either?"

"Yeah, it's pretty tough sometimes – like, when people might shove Mikleo aside in a crowd, or when they give me weird looks when they see me talking to the thin air..."

"I get that a lot, too! People always give me a wide berth when they see me talking to Dymlos!"

"That's because you hold him up in front of your face when you do it," Rutee cuts into the conversation, uninvited. "Anyone would swerve away from someone holding a weapon out in the open."

Leon walks behind them all, scowling. They were _supposed_ to be clearing this area of monsters on the townspeople's request. But with those two loudmouths chatting away and Rutee interjecting unhelpfully, it's as if they're broadcasting their current location to every single creature within a ten-mile radius. The monsters they're hunting today are fairly small and skittish, too – still a threat to the townspeople and their livestock, but weak enough that they'll be scared away by the noise of a large group like this. No wonder they haven't caught sight of a single monster yet, even though they've been wandering in the forest for quite a while. 

"Will you all  _shut up!_ " he finally snaps, unable to restrain himself. "You can have your little heart-to-heart later, not while we're on the job!"

Both Stahn and Sorey snap their mouths shut with sheepish, apologetic expressions. "Sorry," Stahn lowers his voice. "It's just...exciting, you know? Get this – the seraphim specialize in elements too, just like our swordians! Even though we're from different worlds, there's a lot of similarities. Just like how normal people can't hear our swordians, people in Sorey's world can't see or hear the seraphim either!"

"I never thought I'd find another person who'd understand!" Sorey agrees, nodding enthusiastically. "Sometimes I would _really_ want to ask Mikleo for his opinion, but have to wait because people would give me weird looks if they saw me talking. Oh, once, someone almost sat down on top of him because they thought the seat was empty..."

Beside him, Mikleo sighs. "That was an experience I would rather not relive."

"I'm glad I don't have that problem with Dymlos," Stahn looks down at the hilt of his sword. "Everyone can see him, at least."

"The swordians are solid weapons," Leon reminds him impatiently. " _Of course_ everyone can see them. Although they are modeled after the personalities of real people, those people died over a thousand years ago and the swordian spirits don't have human forms."

Too late, he realizes that he'd just broken his own rule and joined the conversation. Now doubly annoyed at his companions _and_ himself, Leon hisses, "And what did I just say about talking?!"

Silence falls over the group. Then Sorey whispers, very quietly, "Sorry."

"You were totally talking too, so you can't expect us to be completely quiet. Stop being a hypocrite," Rutee grumbles. Fortunately, her voice is far quieter than the boys'. Unfortunately, she is unapologetic and defiantly rebellious to every one of Leon's orders. "This is boring. How much are we getting paid, again?"

Mikleo clears his throat. "It's a volunteer job. We're just lending the townspeople a hand."

"Ugh! Then I should've left this all to you!" Rutee stomps her feet. "I could be doing so much more right now! Like exploring the nearby ruins."

At the mention of ruins, both Sorey and Mikleo brighten as if their birthdays had come early. "That's right, Rutee," Mikleo taps a finger against his chin thoughtfully. "You like ruins, don't you? Sorey and I wanted to come along with you the other day, when you went to explore them, but you ran off before we could say anything."

"That's a one-woman job for me," Rutee waves her hand airily. "You two are staying right here."

"But why? Ruins are so much more fun to explore when you have someone else to discuss your findings with! Mikleo and I went to see them the other day, actually, and we were hoping to talk with you since nobody else on the ship has any interest in them–" 

The topic of discussion changes, switching from their shared woes of invisible friends to ridiculously in-depth details about ancient ruins that even Leon can't completely follow, though he'd taken it upon himself to read up on the local area's history. Stahn drops out of the conversation quickly, choosing to wander over to Leon instead. "Rutee's keeping up with them," he leans down to say. "I didn't think she would know so much about this place..." 

Leon huffs. "Though her reasons for knowing are born from greed, rather than academic interest."

"Well," Stahn gives a short laugh. "I guess she needs to know so she can tell the treasures from the fakes, right?"

"Whatever will be most profitable." Though her name is unknown here, it is infamous in Seinegald for a good reason. He remembers very well that the first time he got to meet Stahn and Rutee, it was all because he had been sent to arrest her for stealing shamelessly from Seinegald's ruins. And given that Sorey and Mikleo seems to have a genuine passion for such history, Leon has no doubt that they'll be horrified when they find out about the true nature of Rutee's fondness for these artifacts. 

As if on cue, Sorey lets out a screech. "You mean you stole it and  _sold_ it? To a random merchant?"

A flock of birds take off to the sky, scared away by the sheer volume of his voice. Leon lets out a long-suffering sigh.

 _"I suspect that we'll have to come back later with a quieter group, young master,"_ Chal whispers.

"Just you and I, Chal," Leon mutters. "That will be enough."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of crossoverish, but I figured it counts as a Destiny drabble...kind of. I didn't want to post it as its own work, so here it goes! TotRays stuff totally counts.
> 
> Anyways, this is written for the lovely **[Owlily!](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlily/pseuds/Owlily)** Happy birthday, Fran! Here's some Rays-verse shenanigans between the Zesty and Destiny crew, I figured I couldn't go wrong with that~ And hey, invisible elemental friends for the win, right?


End file.
